


Those Two-for-One Deals

by themthere_taterthings



Series: Hellooo Nurse! Verse [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mentions of PTSD, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 05:47:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10610526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themthere_taterthings/pseuds/themthere_taterthings
Summary: Taking off where part 3 left off with Bucky and Tony's date... then a date with Steve...and maybe a date with Loki?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of history coming out in this one! Hope you all enjoy!

 

“So what’s the story behind Thor? He seemed like a very uh…” Bucky waves an onion ring in the air as if that will help him come up with a word that would describe the blond behemoth without causing offense.

Tony snickers and takes a sip of his Coke. He could help, but he won’t.

“Like a unique kind of guy,” Bucky eventually finishes and Tony laughs.

“That he is,” he agrees. “He and Loki are brothers, you know.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Bullshit. I’m no scientist, but that’s got to be genetically impossible!”

Tony tries to hold a straight face for as long as he can but he caves under Bucky’s mock-glare into a fit of giggles. “Okay, okay! You called it! They are brothers, but Loki’s adopted. Their dad is a complete quack. Totally named them after the Norse mythological gods. I don’t remember the name of his law firm but it’s something equally ridiculous.”

“Oh, I thought those were nicknames. You know, cuz Thor actually looks like, well, Thor.”

“Ehh,” Tony dismisses it with a bite of his burger. “He’s no god of thunder. He’s actually a giant puppy and really smart, too. Both of them. Thor’s in law school right now, at the top of his class.” He watched as Bucky processed this and could see him completely reevaluating his initial impression of the brothers.

“Wow,” he says eventually. “So how did you meet them? You said Loki is an EMT?”

“Technically, he’s a paramedic. There’s a difference, but it pisses him off when I call him an EMT.” He grins evilly. “Really, though, we were kinda forced together because his partner, Clint, has a hopeless crush on Natasha. While he makes repeated sad attempts to woo her we generally mock them from the sidelines.”

“I wish I got along with my coworkers well enough to mess around like that. As manager, though, I need to keep some distance, which kinda sucks sometimes. And, honestly, most of my personal training clients are recovering from some kind of hip replacement surgery or something.” Bucky sounds so exasperated and sad about his clients being all old people that Tony bursts into uncontrollable laughter. It only makes him laugh harder when Bucky glares at him around a chipmunk style mouthful of food.

He pulls himself together, though, wiping away the tears of mirth gathering at the corners of his eyes. “Hoo, thanks for that, Bucky.” He plants both elbows on the table and his chin in his hands, blinking guilelessly across the table. “Tell me more about these clients.”

The onion ring that hits him in the forehead is probably deserved and definitely delicious.

After a while the conversation steers its way back to Tony. “So why did you become a nurse?”

He should have figured the question would eventually be asked. Sure, there were plenty of male nurses but there was still a stigma. His heart freezes for a beat in his chest out of instinct before he catches on that Bucky’s not attacking him. It’s just a question.

“Well, let’s just say I spent a lot of time in hospitals growing up,” he says with a smile even though his brain is flitting around thinking of all of the times he’d ‘fallen down the stairs’ or ‘run into a tree’ and all the other excuses applicable to a rambunctious growing boy. He distracts himself by focusing on his burger, which is freaking amazing and works quite well.

“Stevie was always real sick as a kid, too. I was really glad when he got his growth spurt.” Bucky misunderstands completely, but Tony lets it slide. It’s not something he wants to discuss. Ever. It’s no longer part of his life, been years since it mattered.

“That must have been some growth spurt, because I can’t imagine Steve being sick at all.”

“He was probably about as tall as you, but maybe a hundred pounds? He had really bad asthma and was so skinny you could break a bone just looking at him.”

Tony doesn’t believe it for a second and his face must say as much.

“It’s true! He was still a little punk, though. In more fights than I can remember and I wasn’t always there to pull his bacon out.”

“Now that I can see, but you can’t tell me that you weren’t a hellraising teen either. I don’t believe that for a second.”

Bucky’s smirk is nearly smoldering and if Tony had been standing, he’d be weak in the knees at the sight of it. “I’ll never tell.”

Their conversation get a little less personal but no less interesting after that, only interrupted by large bites of their burgers. Bucky snags the bill when it comes and, after a tiny argument, lets Tony cover the tip. So, Tony graciously allows Bucky hold the door open for him on the way out and they stand awkwardly on the sidewalk for a moment.

“I’m headed this way.” Tony gestures with a thumb behind him toward his apartment. He’d rather not go home, but he has a disgusting amount of laundry to get done or he’ll be wearing whatever hideous scrubs are in the emergency bin tomorrow. God forbid it be the Hello Kitty set…

“Right, I’m…” Bucky jerks his chin in the opposite direction, but he’s staring at Tony like he couldn’t care less where he was headed. Tony nods, wondering what Bucky’s hesitation is. “Can I, Tony, can I kiss you?”

“Of course.” The words are out of his mouth before he’s fully processed the question, but Bucky’s smile is bright and wide, completely transforming his face into something younger, less haunted, and he doesn’t second guess himself.

Bucky steps closer, a warm hand on the back of Tony’s arm drawing him in until they’re nearly chest to chest. Tony lifts his chin, peering at Bucky through his eyelashes until he starts to lean down. When their lips touch, his eyes flutter closed so that he can focus on the feeling: warm, soft, and gentle. They linger together, not deepening it but enjoying the intimacy. It’s everything his kisses with Bucky haven’t been yet and he’s already addicted.

When his glasses start to smash uncomfortably against the bridge of his nose, he pulls back, smiling so Bucky knows he enjoyed it. He pulls his frames down a bit. “Thanks for lunch, Bucky.”

“Sure thing, babe.” Bucky squeezes his hand once and walks away with a swagger. He turns when he reaches the end of the diner and waves when he sees Tony still watching. Tony waves back before he heads in the direction of his apartment. That was a surprisingly pleasant afternoon.

The best part is that he didn’t feel like a third wheel at all; didn’t feel like he’d missed some vital moment in the ‘Steve and Bucky Show’. It was just a date. A good one, going by the dopey grin he can feel plastered across his face. He’s content with that.

***

In usual Friday morning fashion, Tony wakes to the dulcet sounds of Natasha snoring and an enthusiastic kick to his stomach. Only, it isn’t morning, it’s mid-afternoon judging by the glaringly harsh sunlight filtering into his bedroom through the open window. Why aren’t the curtains shut?

“Oh god,” he groans, instantly shutting his eyes. They may have overdone it the previous evening but the two-for-one margaritas had been an opportunity they couldn’t resist. As he begins to recall their drunken stumbling up to his apartment, he figures that their inability to stand probably led to the curtains being left open.

He rolls away from both the light and Natasha, hobbling to the bathroom with his eyes barely cracked. Not only is it bright enough to wake the devil, he was too drunk to take out his contacts and his eyes burn with how dry they are. They’re a lost cause now, so he pries them out and tosses them in the trash before nearly drowning himself in saline.

His glasses are nowhere to be seen, not that he can see more than a foot in front of him, so he relieves himself and brushes his teeth without them. Natasha is leaning heavily on the doorjamb when he opens the door holding his glasses in her hand. He takes them and she brushes by him without a word, slamming the door shut behind her unceremoniously, but he’s not offended; that’s pretty typical hungover-Natasha behavior.  

Pancakes, bacon, and coffee. That’s what they need to kick this in the butt. He doesn’t have plans for whatever remains of the day but he definitely doesn’t need to go around feeling like this. He sets the griddle up to heat and pulls out the bacon and Bisquick mix. The smell of coffee is quickly permeating the air and maybe it’s psychosomatic, but he feels better already. It doesn’t stop him from popping a couple aspirin with a tall glass of water to speed the process up. He leaves the bottle on the counter for Nat.

He snacks while he cooks, a piece of bacon here, orange slice there, so he’s feeling somewhat normal and a good deal more functional by the time their food is ready and Natasha wanders out of his bedroom. She’s wearing a pair of his boxers and an old Black Sabbath tee and she finishes rolling her hair into a towel turban before grabbing the painkillers off the counter.

“Oh this looks great, Tony. Thank you.” He hums in response and they dish out a couple plates and wander to the couch. The ‘breakfast nook’ is not appropriate for hangovers as it’s too close to the windows and all their evil sunshine.

They sit on opposite ends of the couch, cross-legged, with the tv on in the background, but it’s mostly silent except for the sound of them chewing.

Tony reclines into the arm of the couch when he’s done, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling, feeling a million times better after the grease hits his bloodstream. “No more two-for-one margarita nights ever again.”

“Maybe once,” Natasha says around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

“Maybe. Jan should come.”

“There’s karaoke on Saturdays.”

Tony snorts a little. He can sing, but Natasha sure can’t. “You invite Clint and I’ll be there.”

“Ass. But while we’re on the subject of sexy paramedics, Clint thinks Loki’s into you. Like really into you.”

That catches his attention enough to sit back up, head spinning just a tad at the change. “Wait, really, you asked him about it?”

“It was sly, don’t worry. Apparently, every time Loki drives the rig, they end up at our facility more often than the other trauma center south of downtown. Since Clint does the same with the intent to see me, there has to be a connection.”

He scoffs, “Well that’s practically just hearsay. You and Clint know nothing.”

“AND Loki’s been friendlier lately, which is a huge deal since he usually wants to wring Clint’s neck. Did you know he just went through a pretty ugly divorce last year?”

“What?! No way! Loki was married?” Maybe it’s just Tony’s skewed sense of reality and the fact that all his friends seem to be at the same stage of life as he is, but marriage at their age seems nuts!

Natasha nods seriously, putting down her empty plate on top of Tony’s on the coffee table and picking up her coffee. “It was more something his dad wanted than anything, if Clint understood the grumblings correctly. She was a real witch, too, made his life hell even before the divorce.”

“Whoa,” Tony whispers, concern for his friend’s emotional well-being suddenly rushing through him. Loki’s not exactly social, does he have anyone he can talk to about this kind of stuff? He’d probably impale himself on something very dull before he’d talk to Thor about it.

“I know, right? Hey, you never told me why Bucky wanted to meet up with you the other day. How’d that go?”

Recalling Bucky’s kiss has Tony instantly blushing and Nat, of course, pounces on his show of weakness. She grabs his foot and starts to tickle it mercilessly. “You dog! Look at you with all your suitors!”

She’s relentless and he’s shortly reduced to a panting, giggling, squirming mess. Natasha knows him _way_ too well. “Aaahhh! Stop, please! I’ll do anything!”

She stops and he catches his breath and pulls himself back onto the couch; he’d nearly flung himself off in his attempts to escape her hands. He pouts when he sees that she still has a coffee cup in one hand. Nat is officially the worst best friend ever.

“Will you bring them to karaoke?”

“Maybe. If you all promise to behave.”

“It’s just karaoke. What could we possibly do?”

Tony narrows his eyes. “Don’t be coy, I know how evil you really are.”

Nat’s smile is ice cold, but she lets out a genuine laugh when he shoves his bare toes at her armpit. “Fine. I’ll behave and maybe Jan will too. Miracles happen.”

Tony lets it go, knowing his friends will act however they see fit and he wouldn’t have them any other way. “Whatever. I cooked, so you’re on clean up duty.” He sinks down into the couch cushions, pulling one of the super soft throw blankets down over his legs.

“Dishes later, naps now,” Nat replies, maneuvering so that she’s also under the blanket and they settle down for a lazy afternoon.

***

Tony sneakily approaches the recovery floor charge desk, hoping that he knows the nurse on duty. His request isn’t exactly regular, but it’ll work better with someone familiar. Long dark hair and glasses that match his own meet his eyes as he comes around the corner. Victory!

“Darcy! How goes it, hot stuff?” He asks, leaning on his forearms to pull himself mostly over the top of the desk to see what she’s working on. His feet dangle and bump against the faux-wood.

“Bored. Boring. Boredom. Did I miss anything? God, I miss trauma. I can’t wait to be done with this rotation.” Darcy replies, gesturing at the call-button phone in front of her with no lights lit, indicating no patients that need to be seen.

“I hated recovery too. Some of us are just destined for something greater, you know?” Darcy was one of the newer nurses at the hospital and still on probation, which included doing rotations of every department to ensure that such vital staff was well-rounded and informed regarding local procedures. It was a neat idea that actually went pretty far toward creating an inclusive culture, but for a trained and experienced trauma nurse, things like gynecology and the ICU were mind-numbingly repetitive.

“I’ve only got two weeks here, at least. Then moving on, but they haven’t released the schedule for what’s next yet. I’m sure it will be a wonderful surprise.”

Tony snorts a laugh. He loves Darcy’s sarcasm and honestly can’t wait to bring her into their little group downstairs. “Two months until the big leagues, kiddo. You got this!” He holds out a hand for a high five, which is enthusiastically met with a hearty slap.

“Hell yeah! Counting down the minutes! Anyway, what brings you up here, Tony?”

Since it’s Darcy, he’s not circumspect at all in his request. “I just wanted to check up on a patient that came through the ER over the weekend. Car accident, massive crush injuries to the lower extremities. Male, coded twice. Think you can slip me the chart?” He bats his eyes a bit, because he’s a silly flirt and Darcy’s one of the only people who can play the game right back.

“Oh that guy! He’s awesome! I’ll do you one better and give you his room number. He’s desperate for company. Probably the only person here that’s as bored as I am.” Darcy sets a chart on the desktop next to Tony’s elbow.

There’s a sticky note on top that reads, ‘Rhodey, 218’ in sloppy cursive. Perusing the file, it looks like the guy is healing ok; on one hell of an antibiotic cocktail but that’s to be expected with crush injuries. Large, open wounds like that tend to be prone to infection. Ankle and foot bones reconstructed and reset successfully which is great, but the extensive soft tissue damage is what’s going to put his recovery time back. Lots of physical therapy. Weeks and weeks of it.

“Yikes,” he whispers under his breath. Well, at the least the guy’s alive. He checks his watch, he’s still got fifteen minutes of his lunch break left. Might as well go alleviate some boredom. He slides the chart back to Darcy, taking the sticky. “Thanks, Darce,” he salutes her briefly before heading down the hall toward room 218.

Most of the doors on this wing are closed; they’re single suites and patients can chose to have the doors open or closed. If they need anything, they have phones and call buttons. The call buttons ding the desk where Darcy is sitting and a corresponding light in the hallway in front of the appropriate room is lit.

From what Darcy had mentioned, he’s not surprised that 218 is open. Peeking in, he doesn’t actually recognize the black man lounging in the bed, looking bored as hell as he channel surfs. Tony wasn’t really focused on the man’s features during their previous encounter, though.

The room is a soft shade of blue with a hospital bed in the center and two cushioned visitor chairs on one side. Tony’s relieved to see that there are some flowers, chocolates, and even a teddy bear with a heart declaring. ‘Get Well Soon’. There’s nothing more depressing than a patient with no visitors.

“Haven’t seen you on the floor before. Come to poke at me like everyone else?” The man asks, remarkably upbeat for the crappy week he’s having.

Tony smiles, stepping all the way inside the room, but not getting any closer. The illusion of privacy and ownership of the room is important in making patients feel like they’re not faceless statistics. It’s something he remembers very well from his own time as a patient.

“That depends. You Mr. Rhodey?”

The guy looks confused. “I’m James Rhodes. I can be a ‘Mr. Rhodey’ if it keeps the needles away.”

“Dammit Darcy. Worst handwriting ever.” Tony hands the sticky note over, snickering as Rhodes tries to decipher it himself.

He shakes his head. “Man, I don’t even know how you got the letter ‘R’ out of that. Nice job.”

Tony holds out his hand to shake and is impressed with the firm grip. This guy is a fighter. “Right? She’s terrible, sweet but terrible. I’m Tony, by the way. I work downstairs in the ER.”

Rhodes sobers immediately, a more appreciative glint to his gaze. “Ahh. So are you the nurse who jumped on the gurney to save my life?”

Flushing slightly, Tony responds trying to downplay his role. This is why following up is somewhat awkward. Gossip travels, especially when something as dramatic as this happens. Everyone in the hospital, it seemed, was aware of the rig with the faulty automated compression machine and the patient who almost died and the nurse who was pushed into the ER while riding on the gurney.

In his opinion, it hadn’t really seemed all that exciting at the time and the embellishments made it a little embarrassing. It was a doubly big deal because there was still the possibility that the patient might sue the hospital for negligence because of said faulty compression unit.  

“Just doing my job, man, but I have to say you are astonishingly peppy for being so early in your recovery. You were in pretty rough shape when you came in.” Tony’s instincts are usually spot on but he’d not factored in how determined this patient would be to live.

James shrugs. “I’m alive, right? I’m air force actually, so it wasn’t my first life or death situation, but it’s definitely the closest I’ve ever come to the death part. At least I can take advantage of the physical therapy at the VA instead of here. Save me a shitload of money.”

Tony wants to ask about his recovery plan, if he had one, and maybe offer some guidance on what sorts of things are necessary, but his pager goes off. It’s not an emergency code, but the ‘ER’s busy, get your butt down here’ code.

“Hey, I’ve got to run, but I’m really glad you’re doing better. You had me worried for a while there,” Tony says, backing toward the door.

Rhodes waves. “Hey, yeah, thanks for checking in. And stop back by sometime. Darcy’s cool but she’s a little…” His hand does a sideways shake in midair.

“Excitable?”

“Young. I feel like she’s speaking a different language; tumblr, tinder, I don’t even know.” He sounds exasperated and Tony completely understands. Darcy is a very unique and social media savvy individual.

“I feel ya, man. And I’ll definitely be by again.” With that, Tony spins on his heel and leaves the quiet of the recovery ward for the comfort of the ER chaos. Once more into the fray, and all that.

***

This may be the strangest week of Tony’s life. He’s been on a date, gotten wildly trashed with his best friend at a new Mexican restaurant and maybe made a new friend out of the crush injury guy. And now this! No, he takes it back, this is definitely the best week of his life.

He is just coming down after escorting a patient to radiology, when he sees Clint and Natasha talking over by the coffee dispenser and ducks back into the hallway he came from to peek around the corner. Just in case! He doesn’t want to interrupt anything… Clint’s back is to him, but Nat doesn’t seem to have noticed Tony’s presence.

“So, yeah, umm.. If you maybe wanted we could, uh…”

He wrestles his snickers back down before they can burst out of him, but this is too good! Clint is a stuttering mess! He never thought he’d see the day. Wonder if Loki’s watching, because this is golden blackmail material here.

“Clint. Spit it out.” No mercy from Nat; Tony’s howling with glee on the inside.

“Would you get dinner with me?”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Nat I am.”

“Yes, I’d love to go out with you.”

Tony jumps out from his hiding place and wolf-whistles loudly _because it’s Clint,_ and gets flipped the bird in response. It’s worth it though because Nat is just shaking her head fondly at their antics. It feels like a party, because plenty of other people had apparently been listening in and start to add their own cheers to his initial outburst. He chuckles to himself and moseys away, leaving them to plan out their date. Finally!

A small group of nurses are gathering by the charge desk and he can see Jan’s hair bounce as she jumps up and down on her toes excitedly. He’s surprised when he sees Loki’s lean form, bent on his elbows on the desk.

“What’s the word over here?” He asks as he gets close, swinging his arm over Jan’s shoulders and trying to drag her down with his weight.

“Uugggghhh! Tony, get off me!” She squeals, ducking underneath and shoving lightly at his chest. He laughs, dancing away and going to Loki to lean on his elbow over the man’s back. Loki looks back at him with an eyebrow raised. Tony grins widely, leaning just a tad more.

“We’re seeing who won the pot,” Loki replies to Tony’s original question, and he can feel the vibrations of his deep voice along his side where they’re touching.

“You were in on the pot?” Tony’s surprised. He didn’t think Loki would lower himself to join their silly little nurse’s bet. Loki does have a habit of surprising him, though, now that he thinks about it.  

“I’ve spent countless hours listening to Clint whine about Natasha and how he’s too much of an infant to ask her out, so of course I’m going to try to get a little money out of his suffering.” Loki’s smile is almost feral and Tony loves it.

“Alright, Maria, dole it out!” Tony says in between laughs. A nurse he doesn’t know ends up winning the majority and Loki gets $20 for being a runner-up; he was only off by about three days.

“So, to the victor the spoils!” Tony follows Loki toward the ER doors and the taller man slows his stride for Tony to catch up. “Any big plans for your winnings?”

Loki shrugs, giving him a sly sidelong glance. “Perhaps. But for now, I think I’ll just gloat.”

Tony laughs and pats him on the forearm. “There you go! Good plan.”

They walk up just in time to see Clint kiss Nat’s cheek and blush a bit before running out. Loki rolls his eyes and follows more sedately. Tony holds up his hand and Nat slaps it heartily, unable to hold in her beaming smile and they separate to go do their actual jobs for a bit.

Still chuckling to himself and feeling stupidly happy for Natasha, he peruses the charts waiting for him at the charge desk. One in particular leaves him biting his bottom lip in an effort to stifle his grin. He looks around and spots just the person for the job.

“Hey, Justin, pal. You free? Everyone else is on lunch, can you take this one?” He’s amazed at how normal and serious he sounds as he hands the clipboard to the thin man and keeps walking.

“Hemorrhoids? Again?” Hammer whines and it takes all of his effort to keep a straight face.

Under his breath he mutters, “You mean ‘hammer-roids.’”

Hammer’s head pops up like he suspects something now. “What, Tony?”

“Nothing. Sorry, man. I’ve got to go handle this infected cyst.” In his head, he’s howling in victory. It’s been several years and the man still hadn’t caught on to the fact that every hemorrhoids case went to him. Oh boy, it is really shaping up to be a good day.

***

Two days later he’s still riding the high while on a date with Steve and it’s probably the most fun he’s had on a date, ever. Hands down. It’s a sunny Sunday afternoon and they’re out mini-golfing. Tony hasn’t done this since high school and they’re the only people there without kids, but he doesn’t mind one bit.

Steve is so tall that even the tallest putter is too short and has him hunching ridiculously to get a shot off. Tony laughs himself silly almost every time, especially when Steve has on his serious face complete with a small bit of tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth. Despite his best efforts and Tony’s total irreverence for the game, Tony ends up winning.

“I don’t know how you beat me! You weren’t even trying!” Steve exclaims as they return their gear and head for the small eating area that smells of delicious fatty grease.

Tony flashes a shit-eating grin as he walks backwards in front of Steve, “Admit it, you’re just jealous of my mad skills.” His smirk only lasts a moment as Steve’s eyes narrow and he charges. Tony squeaks in surprise when he’s grabbed around the middle and lifted into the air to be spun in circles. He’s breathless and laughing when Steve finally puts him down, taking a few extra moments to lean into his broad chest.

“Who’s jealous now?” Steve says, arms firmly wrapped around Tony.

Tony hops up on his tip-toes and kisses Steve deeply and firmly. He wants it to be dirty because Steve’s shirt is two sizes too small and his aviators are _so fucking_ _hot_ , but he’s well aware that there are children in the vicinity, so he pulls away. “Hmmm… still you cuz loser buys lunch!”

Steve groans, resting his forehead on Tony’s shoulder. “Fine. What are we getting?”

They sit down at an empty picnic table, one of those blue plastic holey ones, to finish their corn dogs. It amuses Tony to no end that Steve has four while he has one, which he eats quickly. He chuckles, watching the other man try to juggle the flimsy paper container they came in so that they don’t fall out while he’s dipping one in a veritable lake of ketchup.

Steve pouts at him, “Don’t laugh, I have a high metabolism.”

The pout may be the cutest expression he’s ever seen on Steve’s face so he reaches over and grabs his cheeks in both hands and pulls him in for a kiss. He means it to be a quick thing, but Steve instantly pushes into it, delving his tongue into Tony’s mouth and _god_ is it a good kiss.

Reluctantly, Tony pulls away, a little glazed with pleasure and smiles to see Steve looking the same. He presses one more quick kiss to his lips. “You’re adorable.”

Steve blushes, turning away to shove an alarming amount of corn dog in his mouth.

“So,” Tony starts, voice turning sly. “A little Bucky-bird told me that you were a teeny-tiny ball of fire when you were younger.”

Steve splutters, hurrying to swallow his food and wipe off a bit of ketchup lingering on the corner of his mouth with a napkin. Where did that come from? “I was not ‘teeny-tiny’! I was just a little short!”

Tony tries out Loki’s one-eyebrow raise and is delighted when Steve just blushes and grumbles more. “Ok, really short and maybe a little underweight.”

Tony snorts and wraps an arm around Steve’s bulgy bicep, patting at it a little condescendingly. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Steve. You’ve obviously been taking your steroids for a long time.”

“Hey!” Steve looks so genuinely offended that Tony bursts out laughing and he can’t stop, hunching over and grasping at his stomach, tears leaking from his eyes. It’s great. He hasn’t laughed that hard in a while.

“Hoo!” He exclaims when he catches his composure. “Thanks for that, Steve. You know I was just joking, right?” He wipes the wetness away from his face.

“I know, I just like making you laugh.” There he goes with that earnestness again. The guy is almost too perfect, in Tony’s opinion.

“And I like laughing! I would like to know how you and Bucky went from long-term friends to what you are now, though. If you don’t mind sharing, that is.” Tony can hear the hesitancy as he voices his request, but he wants to know more about them, their history, but Bucky seems a little reluctant to share the more serious stuff. He understands, he does, they barely know him, but on the other hand, how do you get to know someone if you don’t share?

He’s relieved when Steve just smiles brightly. “Of course Tony!” Then he’s off, and a lot of the early stuff is similar to what Bucky had told him. Growing up and getting in trouble in Brooklyn, but then it’s all new, talking about feeling the need to enlist after 9/11. They’d tried to go together, but Steve was still too sickly at that time. By the time he was fully recovered and on his way to base camp, Bucky had been sent overseas. He and a few other men had been declared missing in action a few months later after a mission.

“He was just gone, and I don’t know. I thought that maybe if I was over there I’d be the one to find him, bring him home. It was irrational, for sure, but that’s grief for you. I wasn’t ready to admit that he could be dead, I was barely able to admit that maybe there was something more than brotherly love there.” Steve’s voice cracks subtly and Tony leans in, pressing his chest against Steve’s arm and rubbing his back lightly.

“Hey, he’s safe, Steve. He’s home and he loves you. It’s terribly obvious,” Tony reassures him, hating to see him so sad. If he’s being honest with himself, the depth of emotion that these two have for each other is intimidating and awe-inspiring. He brushes away the sharp teeth of his insecurity when it haunts him with thoughts that they could never feel that intensely about him.

Steve inhales deeply and seems to pull himself together on the exhale. He flashes a small, grateful smile at Tony. “I know, but the whole thing was a mess and it’s part of why we are so co-dependent. Buck and I talked it over and we think you should know.”

“Ok, well, take your time. There’s no place I’d rather be.” He rests his head on Steve’s shoulder just to enforce that point.

The seriousness of their conversation topic is at harsh odds with the bright, warm sunlight beating down on their heads. Tony can feel it heating the back of his neck and he hopes he doesn’t burn, Steve probably definitely will with that Irish skin.

“They got him out while I was deployed and they sent him straight home. The arm, you know?” Steve’s laugh is dark and self-deprecating. “And that’s the ironic bit; I was stationed in a completely different country from where he was found and they sent him home where I should have been. I should have been waiting for him. He had no one and I didn’t have leave to get stateside for another year.”

The story is horrifying; Tony’s dealt with enough aggravated PTSD cases at the ER and the injured veteran population to have some idea of what kind of mental condition Bucky would have been in. Injured, tortured, probably with some survivor’s guilt and to have no support system. He doesn’t know what to say, but Steve doesn’t wait for him to come up with something.

“When I finally got back it was better, but I had demons of my own. Living together was both a good idea and a complete nightmare. I went back to school and Bucky got his prosthetic. We survived until we figured out how we really felt and then we were finally living again.”

They’re both silent as Steve finishes his story. It’s completely impossible; more suited for Hollywood than for two regular joes from Brooklyn. Star-crossed lovers separated by the whims of time and fate, that would be the tagline, Tony’s sure.

He debates if he should reply with something from his own past, but he’s not sure he’s ready to let them in on that. A lifetime of stifled emotions aren’t so easily shared. Besides, he doesn’t want it to seem like he’s belittling their situation, so he should just keep it to himself. If they want to know, they’ll ask, right? Like how he’s asking.

Then the sequel, he thinks. The two heroes meet a lackluster and rather selfish ER nurse. It’s obvious to him even now. Steve has just revealed their tragic past and he’s focusing on his own misery. But he can’t help it; their love is one for the ages. Why on earth would they need him to mess it up?

***

Tony’s kneeling on the mats next to where Rhodes is sprawled out, groaning. It had obviously been a rough therapy session today, as he was sweaty and still trembling all over. One arm is flung out to the side and the other rests across his eyes.

“Tooony….ugh…this hurts worse than when they got crushed!”

Tony grins and slaps him lightly on the thigh with a cold bottle of water he’d grabbed from the PT mini-fridge. “I thought you military types were supposed to be tough? Suck it up, soldier!”

Rhodes removes his arm to glare ineffectually at Tony before swiping the bottle from him. “My physical therapist is a demon and this is how you respond? Pssht, some friend you are.”

He knows it’s just a phrase, but hearing that Rhodes thinks he’s a friend makes Tony’s chest constrict with joy. “Here, let me try something. I’ve read that it helps.”

He’s actually done quite a lot of reading and pestering of the PT’s in his spare time to be well informed about the man’s recovery. In his head he makes all sorts of excuses; he’s just boning up on an area of medicine he’s not familiar with, can never hurt to have too many skills, but really he just wants to help his new friend. The connection he’d felt when Rhodes had been dying under his hands was still there and Tony was determined to keep it.

It only takes a moment for him to maneuver Rhodes how he wants him and for him to find the lotion that is the facilities version of Icy/Hot cream. He slaps on a pair of gloves and straddles Rhodes’ leg, making sure he’s putting no weight on the injured limb. Rhodes raises an eyebrow at that and Tony just shrugs.

“Let me know if this is too weird for you or if it hurts too much, ok?”

Rhodes looks confused but nods his agreement. Tony pushes the man’s loose basketball shorts up further along his thigh and pours the Icy/Hot on his hand before taking a fortifying breath and starting to massage the muscle. Rhodes almost instantly lets out a groan, but it sounds satisfied instead of pained like earlier.

The crush injuries to his leg start just about at the knee of his left leg and above the knee on his right, which did make recovery easier as he only had to rehab one knee instead of both. Rhodes can upgrade to crutches as soon as his left leg is able to bear weight. Tony starts at the left thigh, loosening the quads and hamstrings before carefully working down the IT-band, a bit that is very hard to stretch and has a tendency to be tense.

“Ow, ow, ow! Tony!” Rhodes whines and Tony immediately stops.

“Ow like muscle ‘ow’ or I’m messing up your stitches ‘ow’?” It’s supposed to hurt a little bit, but his legs are still hugely swollen and bruised. He can’t see the surgical sites due to the bandages, but he knows where they are. It’s almost disturbing how quickly rehab and PT start after an injury, but they probably know best.

Rhodes sighs and gestures with a hand for Tony to continue. “Just muscle pain.”

Relief rushes through Tony; he hadn’t thought he was causing Rhodes pain, but it was good to know for sure. He keeps massaging until his hands start to cramp and hurt but he keeps going. He stops when a woman bursts into the work out area.

“James? What’s taking you so long today? Oh!” She stops and stares at them from just inside the doorway.

Rhodes looks up in surprise and sits up to lean on his elbows. “Hey Pep! Sorry, I lost track of time! Come on in here.”

Tony scrambles back and stands, pulling off his gloves and tossing them in the trash. The woman towers over him in scarily pointy high heels and a sharp skirt suit. She’s beautiful; freckled pale skin and reddish-orange hair. Despite how uptight and perfect she looks, she doesn’t hesitate to sit on her knees on the padded mat and pull Rhodes in for a kiss.

Good job Rhodes! He fights down the urge to let out a wolf-whistle; he doubts the woman would appreciate it.

“It’s fine, I was just waiting and wanted to make sure you weren’t stuck somewhere alone,” she says with a smile.

“Nah, just had a rough session today and Tony here,” he gestures at Tony, who is now kind of awkwardly standing to the side, “was helping me loosen up.”

When the woman looks at him, her eyes are wide and startled. “Tony? As in _the Tony_?”  

Tony doesn’t have any idea what would grant him such a prestigious modifier, so he looks to Rhodes for clarification.

“Uh, yeah, Pep, this is Tony, the nurse who saved my life. Tony meet my fiancée, Pepper.”

Pepper is on her feet in a moment and has Tony wrapped up in a tight hug before he can even start to lift his hand to shake.

“Umm…” he says, hugging her back gently. His face must be hilarious because Rhodes falls back on the floor laughing with an arm around his stomach.

“It is so nice to finally meet you, Tony,” Pepper says, and her voice is thick with emotion. Is she crying? Why would she be crying? Alarmed, he tightens his grip on her slim shoulders.

“You too. Rhodes is a great guy.”

“No, Tony. I owe you everything. Thank you.” She takes a shaky breath and a steps back a little, but still holds Tony’s arms. He sees the shadow of grief in her eyes and suddenly understands. Her fiancé had been at death’s door, _had died_ in the medical sense a couple of times, and Tony had helped to bring him back.

He knows how she feels. It had been awhile but sometimes loss just creeps back on you. His eyes start to water and he blinks rapidly to hold them back.

“You’re welcome,” he says roughly and she stares at him. Maybe she can see her own grief reflected, magnified, but she smiles and squeezes his hand all the same. They part and Tony steps over and holds out his hands to help haul Rhodes to his feet and Pepper is there with the wheelchair for him to sink into.

“Well, Tony you’ll have to let us take you for a drink sometime as a thank you for how supportive you’ve been of James’ recovery.”

“Yeah, Tones, that’s a great idea. You in?”

“Sure! How about when you graduate to crutches? We’ll celebrate.”

“Sounds great! See you later Tony!”

Once Pepper and Rhodes are gone, Tony wanders back to the ER locker rooms to put on his regular clothes before going home. He hasn’t thought about Jarvis in years and having the man’s death thrown in his face all of sudden has him reeling. Dropping his head in his hands, he sits on the odd little couch and tries to wrangle his emotions back to normal.

He doesn’t want to fall back into the spiral of negativity that had surrounded his life at that time, so he does his best to push it away. Rising, he opens his and Natasha’s locker and numbly pulls out some spare clothes. Mechanically, he puts them on and heads for the door. If he was paying attention, he would notice that he’s not going for the employee exit in the back, but straight toward the ER bays.

“Tony? Tony!”

He’s drawn out of his mental fog by a hand gripping his elbow.

“Tony, are you alright? I’ve been yelling your name for ages.” Loki stands in front of him, brow furrowed in concern. He’s wearing his uniform but Clint isn’t around, so he must be off the clock.

“Did you wait for me?”

Loki’s eyes narrow. “Yes. To see if you wanted to go for coffee, but I think, now, that I’m going to make you. Come along.” With that he slung an arm around Tony’s shoulders and they were off. Tony isn’t making it a point to pay attention to what Loki’s saying or where they’re going, but he’s still surprised when Loki’s hands wrap around his own to help him hold a coffee mug.

The warmth is the first thing he registers. The porcelain is warm on his palms and Loki’s hands are warm, too. He meets Loki’s eyes across their small table and smiles. It’s watery, he can tell, but it seems to ease some of the tension in Loki’s shoulders. Loki’s hands squeeze around his before he pulls them back to his own cup.

“Feeling better?” He asks, raising the mug to his lips more elegantly than Tony thought possible.  

Tony takes a sip of his own drink; barely noticing that his hands are shaking, and lets the rush of caffeine and sugar hit his tongue. He closes his eyes to savor the burst of flavor. It’s probably the best cup of coffee he’s had in a while. When he opens them again, Loki’s smiling at him and it’s not his usual wolfish grin, but the softer genuine article that he uses so infrequently.

“Yeah. Thanks Loki. I didn’t realize how badly I needed this.” He takes a moment to look around the shop. It’s not somewhere he’s familiar with and that will definitely need to be remedied. It’s cozy but not crammed. The walls are a deep burgundy, cut with brown trim and there are plants _everywhere_ ; the greenery adding a nice vibrancy to the otherwise gloomy aesthetic. It seemed like a place Loki would frequent.

“You seemed a bit out of sorts, but this way I got to take you for coffee.”

Tony finds himself blushing a little at that, but pushes forward with the conversation. “Where is this place?”

Loki relaxes back into his seat and Tony finds himself doing the same. The tables and chairs are all stained the same dark shade but none of them match for style. There are harsh, ladder-backed chairs, and rounded stools and a few plush-ly cushioned monstrosities that were probably more at home in a snobby British period soap. He’s glad that Loki found them a table with the ornate, cushioned ones. They’re extremely comfortable.

“It’s off the beaten path, well hidden from tourists and the main-streeters.”

“It suits you. I like it and this coffee is amazing! I hope this wasn’t your private spot because I’m definitely coming back.” There’s a hint of challenge there, but it’s mostly teasing.

“Even if it was, I’d be willing to share it with you,” Loki says lowly, eyes meeting Tony’s in an electric stare. It’s not sexual, Tony’s not his prey, but it is intense and he finds it hard to look away. Tony’s starting to notice that Loki has this uncanny ability to make him feel stripped bare, vulnerable, and not in a bad way, but it’s like the man wants to get to the root of him; to the essence.

He can’t think of anyone in his life that’s ever wanted to _know him_ to that degree. It’s intimidating, but flattering and on some strange level makes him feel safe. So instead of responding with something witty, he goes with honest. “Thanks, Loki.”

Something that looks like surprise flashes in Loki’s green eyes, but he recovers quickly, nodding. “If you don’t mind me asking, what had you so upset earlier?”

Tony debates what he wants to say here, but gets the feeling that Loki won’t judge him right now, won’t hold this against him. “I was reminded of the death of a loved one and it hit me harder than I expected, I guess. I haven’t really thought about him for a couple years. Not that I haven’t thought about him, of course I have. I just haven’t thought about him being gone, you know?”

He realizes as he’s speaking, just how urgently he needs Loki to understand. Jarvis is always in his heart, but it doesn’t always mean thinking about the loss of him in his life. Call it semantics, but it matters to Tony.

“I understand, Tony. Trust me, I do. I feel the same way about my mother, well, my adoptive mother. She was a wonderful woman and I’d much rather remember her the way she was in my childhood than at the end.” Loki swallows thickly and Tony doesn’t hesitate to grab one of his hands where is sits limply on the tabletop between them, grasping it firmly in his own.

“The cancer took so much of her away and it was extremely difficult to watch, especially with the strain between Odin and myself. We would have come to blows many times if it weren’t for Thor’s interference.”

“So his bulk is good for something, huh?” Tony jokes, not acknowledging the tear that Loki wipes away smoothly with his free hand, but more than ready to change the subject to something less heavy.

Loki huffs a laugh and Tony considers it a win.

“Have you ever heard about the time the both of us dressed in drag and went for karaoke? We were celebrating Thor’s acceptance into law school, but I’m not sure why drag came into it.”

“Uhhh… no! But I need to! Please tell me there’s photographic evidence!”

It isn’t until he gets home a few hours later that he realizes he’s wearing Nat’s pink skull and cross bone decorated hoody instead of his own. Oops. Hopefully Nat’s revenge isn’t too harsh.


End file.
